


Sick Day

by HitherDither



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Gen, Sickstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 06:56:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HitherDither/pseuds/HitherDither
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vriska isn't feeling well, and Tavros can't help doing everything to make her comfortable. Short drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Day

**Author's Note:**

> For a friend :)

The thing in your hands shuddered and puffed out a cloud of vapor. It was a crude, makeshift invention that you kept having to refill with goopy sopor fuel every few minutes, but it worked. Carefully placing it by Vriska's haphazard pile, you couldn't help but smile broadly.

  
She stared at you for a moment before you registered her expression as unimpressed.

  
"I don't have a fucking _cold_ , idiot." Her speech was a little slower than normal, and her face had a slight greenish tint. You scratched the back of your neck and looked away.

  
"I know, but, I just wanted to do something," the vaporizer made a chugging sound, paused, and then shot out another neat little cloud of steam, "I don't really know what to do. To help you I mean."

  
Vriska sighed heavily and shifted around to get comfortable, but she still looked uneasy in her new position. "You can't really do anything, I just have to wait for it to go away on it's own."

  
Not satisfied with just leaving her be, you walked across the room and gathered some water in a glass. She watched you with barely focused eyes as you placed it by her hand. Pausing a moment more, you turned to walk to the same place again, and brought her back a tiny sleeve of grub biscuits.

  
You still weren't satisfied with this. Vriska looked away and closed her eyes, attempting to rest.

  
A few minutes passed before you saw her open them again. You were sitting on the edge of a dilapadated chair, a few feet away, concern written on your face.

  
"What the fuck, Nitram..." She mumbled, surveying the assortment of objects laying around her. In addition to the water and biscuits, there were two bowls of soup, some fizzy stuff in a cup, some ice wrapped in a towel, some smelling salts, and of course your ever-chugging creation that puffed soft, warm steam near her face. It now had the addition of a few drops of plant oil that smelled delightfully cool and refreshing.

  
"I just want you to feel better."

  
When she smiled at you, you wanted to melt.


End file.
